Twenty Six Weeks
by AnnieXMuller
Summary: First night of your life, curled up on your own. Looking at you now, you would never know. Baby fic. Future fic. Christmas fic. (Old fic).


SUMMARY: _First night of your life, curled up on your own. Looking at you now, you would never know._  
Est. Relationship. Caskett. Future fic. Christmas fic.

Old fic, one of the first I ever wrote. It got one review, way back in March sometime, so I took it down in utter embarrassment :/ Putting it back up so it has a home somewhere.

INSPIRED BY: _Wires_ by Athlete

* * *

Twenty six weeks. Too early. It wasn't supposed to happen so soon.

Castle ran through the hospital corridors, only slowing slightly when yelled at by an orderly, slowing down just enough to not put others in danger. Corridor after corridor, wing after wing, through door after door. The hospital seemed like a labyrinth of twists and turns, with a monster named death stalking his family. He had to get there first, and never allow that monster to find them.

He hadn't been there. Why hadn't he been there? At twenty five weeks Kate had told him it was fine for him to go promote his book. She understood - and accepted - his commitments. She would be fine, she promised. He should have listened to his gut; he should have stopped for just a second to decipher that uneasy swirling sensation in the pit of his stomach, shouldn't have fought against it as it latched onto his heart and squeezed. The plan had been to be home December 23rd. Here he was, on December 19th, home early, yet nine hours too late. When Kate went into labor, when the baby decided she just wasn't waiting another day, when there was nothing anyone could do, he hadn't been there. And getting to her now, navigating the seemingly endless hallways in the hospital, seemed almost impossible.

"Kate?" He skidded into her room, sliding on the slick floors, his face red, gleaming with a thin sheen of sweat. "Our daughter...?" He trailed off, couldn't end that question.

Kate sat in her hospital bed, her face pale and drawn. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and the bags under her eyes were so dark she looked like she'd been punched in the face. But she had, in a sense. After a difficult pregnancy, the premature birth of their daughter was the final blow. Reaching out a hand to him, she squeezed it as he took it. "She's a fighter, Rick."

"She's alive?" Awe and relief in his tone, on his face.

Kate nodded, smiling just slightly. "She's alive."

"Where?" He glanced around, frantic, as though she was in the room, even though his brain knew she wasn't.

"Help me up," she told him. "I'll take you to her."

He eyed her warily. "Should you be getting up?"

She smiled. "It's fine. I'm fine. Just a little tired."

He helped her up; pulled the sheet back, helped her to stand, and arranged the hospital gown to protect her modesty. One arm pulled her against him, wrapped around her waist, keeping her on her feet, his other arm rested on her stomach as they walked, rested where their daughter should have still been.

"She's beautiful," Kate told him, her voice strained but still strong. "And she's a fighter."

"Takes after her mom already," he replied gently, but with just a touch of humor.

Tears were beginning to fall, streaking down Kate's cheeks. "They told me..." She paused to take a breath, not wanting to say it but having no choice. "She has less than an eighty percent chance of survival. That's..."

"More than enough," Castle finished. He was barely holding himself together and he hadn't even seen her yet. "Our little fighter."

And then there she was. His daughter. Tiny, pale, in an incubator, and hooked up to too many machines for someone so small. He exhaled, his hand shaking as he touched it to the glass separating them from the room inside, and the NICU keeping their daughter alive. Tears threatened to fall. "She's beautiful."

Kate nodded, not bothering to wipe away her own tears. "She's ours, Castle."

He pulled her tighter against his side, and kissed her forehead gently. "She needs a name, Kate," he whispered against her forehead, his breath moving wisps of her hair that had come loose from the ponytail. "We shouldn't wait any longer." _Just in case she doesn't make it_, he added silently.

Kate nodded. They had already settled on Johanna for a middle name, but they'd been stuck for a first name since learning they were having a daughter. Alexis, Martha, Jim, even Ryan, Esposito and Lanie had all thrown ideas at them over the months. Ultimately they had decided to wait until she was born to find just the right name, but they'd run out of time. She needed a name _now_.

"It's almost Christmas." He paused. "Holly?"

Kate scrunched her nose up a little, turning to face him she shook her head at him.

"Okay, that's a no," he deciphered. He was captivated by the little bundle in the incubator. His little bundle. "I need Google." He dropped his hand from the cool glass, fumbled in his pocket for his phone. "If I pull out my phone will I get told off?"

Kate frowned. "What?" Her hand dropped onto his, stilling his movements.

"I need baby names." His voice was a little more frantic than he had intended it to be. "I-"

"Castle, it's okay," Kate soothed him with her tone, with her touch. "How about..." She paused, chewing on her lower lip as she tried to find the perfect name for the miracle before them. She sighed sadly; nothing seemed right.

It came to him then, through the swirling mist of terror in his mind, the breaking of his heart in his chest, the name was revealed. "Okay, don't get angry for what I'm about to suggest, but how about we drop the middle name and just call her Hanna?"

"H-a-n-n-a-h?" Kate asked, spelling it out.

"Without the h at the end."

Part of her mom's name, she realized. "Do you know what it means?" Kate asked.

Castle shook his head. "Nope. Does it matter?"

Kate was thoughtful for a moment, silent, before, "I guess not. No." She smiled then. "Hanna."

When their baby girl shifted ever so slightly within the incubator, they both smiled. "I think she approves," Castle observed.

"Hanna. Our little fighter," Kate said softly.

"Aaaw, she's gonna be a heart-breaker that one." He smiled before adding, "Maybe a nose or an arm breaker too."

Kate took a breath, squeezed his hand. "We can go in," she told him. "Are you ready?"

"Introduce me to our daughter, Kate."

* * *

Five years after the birth, Castle sat on the couch in their home, Hanna curled up beside him. The Christmas tree stood before them, decorations hanging from every possible branch, tinsel and lights twinkling and glittering, lighting the corner of the room in a comforting glow. He had been reading _The Night before Christmas_ to his daughter, when she had drifted off. Kate crept up over to where they sat, carefully handing Castle a mug of hot chocolate, before slowly sitting so that their daughter was between them. Hanna snuggled closer to her father, sighing softly in her sleep.

"Our little fighter turns five tomorrow," Kate said quietly, her voice breaking slightly as she spoke. With a loving touch, she stroked the top of her daughter's head, smoothing her curls down. Even now, the memories of that night, five years ago, could bring her to tears in a second. The memories of the days and weeks that followed could break her heart all over again in an instant.

With big blue eyes, and brown hair that curled gently, she was becoming every bit the heart-breaker Castle had imagined, but also feared she might not become on particularly difficult days at the hospital following her birth. They'd almost lost her twice. Three times if he counted the difficult birth itself. He hadn't witnessed that, but he'd been there the two times she'd stopped breathing. He'd stopped breathing then too. But here she was, alive, healthy, strong, curled up against him on the eve of her birthday. Daddy's girl. "Hard to imagine she was so tiny once," he said softly. She was still a little small for her age, but she had otherwise come through the premature birth unscathed. Her organs were fine, and she had no disabilities; everything was fine.

And she was beautiful.

* * *

_Reviews would be lovely  
_


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